


Lemon, Lime, and All Things Bitter

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BL, Blood, Bruises, Draco sort of maybe gets off a little bit to beating up Harry, Fighting, Love, M/M, Mild Gore, Multi, MxM - Freeform, POV First Person, Pining, Pining Harry, Stream of Consciousness, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 09:37:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8484394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He was so beautiful, standing above me like a predator, looking as if he was ready to consume me with animalistic vigor. I know you think I'm beautiful too, Draco, in your own special way. You like the way I'm slumped against the wall, fresh bruises becoming more visible with each passing second you stand there. Oh, Draco, I can't help it. I just have to smile at you, here, have my best grin. I know you need this, my pain. I'm a willing sacrifice.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Not one inkling of when this'll be pursued any further, but if the urge strikes I won't hesitate to add more.
> 
> Also, just want to say, the purpose of Harry's willingness to destroy himself is not supposed to be romantic. He's a little sick, is all, in the head I mean. Just for a little while until he gets what he needs. 
> 
> Draco won't be a bastard forever, I promise.

I am (your?) chaos and you are my order. You are slicked back hair and I am the way you rake your hand through it before you go to bed. I am obsession and you are indifference. You are safety. 

You are the seatbelt. I am the crash. 

Sometimes I'm afraid of myself. 

When I follow you to bed or feel that gladness when you answer a question in Potions just because I can look at you, I think I'm going mad. 

Oh, I am mad. For you, Draco, always for you. 

You're getting up now, it's beautiful. I must be mad to think that, right? Nothing's in the present anymore but you. I see you, and the rest is a blur. Merlin, I'm too far gone. 

It's torture. 

I wonder what you'd say if I were to tell you? I wonder if you'd even let me, maybe you'd just walk away from me, turn your back and leave me behind. Somehow it feels like you've already done just that. It's alright. I forgive you, you can leave me in the dust.

If I'd left Ron in that car on the first day, where would I be? In Slytherin, sitting on your bed and playing chess, scowling at everyone and laughing with you?

Oh, but I wouldn't want to be there, not if I didn't have this. This is good, life is good now. Filled with the dead and cold and blood and your glares, it's beautiful. Everything is so natural. It's all terrific. Love it, love it all. Pain reminds me of why we do this. Sacrifice is never futile.

You smiled before you turned away, while you were leaving, a little drop of pumpkin juice on your top lip. Would you ever let me wipe it away for you? Is it possible for you to be happy that way, with anyone? Have you ever let somebody laugh at your expense and then have them lick pumpkin juice off your lips? 

I hope so. Maybe then I have a chance, maybe I could lick juice off of your lips and every drop of blood spilt as I go on would be justified because it would be for you. To set you free. You don't have to be a Death Eater, you could be a bird instead. I'll let you out of your cage, indirectly or directly. Either way, I hope you never know it was me. You don't owe me anything, Draco, you don't need to repay me. 

Your posse is gone, I can just see the corner of a robe swish away from the corner you just turned. It's not you, one of your minions. They're no matter. I'm your slave as well, in a way. 

Hermione is prodding me incessantly, "Harry, Harry?" 

Her concern makes me feel loved in a way. I like her hair today. "Yeah?"   
Ron's looking at me too, and Hermione leans back to let me see him.  
"You going to eat anything mate?" 

Oh, Ron wants my food again. It's baffling how he can get anything he wants from right in front of him, yet he prefers to take it from me. 

He's just like that, I suppose. Doesn't get a lot of things, likes to storm off when he doesn't understand. We all do weird things Ron, even you. Can't blame us. Use your head.

He's been good lately, though. Letting me storm off instead for no reason at all. He's a good friend. He gets it now.

Here, Ron, you can have my toast if you'd like. You deserve that. 

Ron's munching on it happily and I'm still zoning out. Am I talking? Are we having a conversation? 

Can't tell these days. The Draco thing is getting worse. It's the perfect temperature yet it's burning me alive. I'll be a pile of ash soon, if I don't see him, and at the same time I'll still be right here, whole and grinning.

Let me see you, Draco, raise your hand in class and let me turn around and look at you. Glare at you. Wipe pumpkin juice off your lips with mine. Let me have you. Do I deserve that? 

Sometimes I think so, but most of the time I think not. I want you so much it makes me think I shouldn't have you. You're unbelievable. 

Everyone is clearing out of the hall, and I'm finding so am I. Strange thing, moving. Hardly have to think about it at all. My body's a zombie for you. It is blissful. 

DracoDracoDraco. You're right there, I thought you'd be at class by now? When did I get here? Maybe you were waiting for me, to bite me with your words and make my blood race and have my words strangle you. Surely not.

You turn and see me, looking at you dumbly as if it's impossible you're here. You smirk and snarl something at me, but I can't focus because the juice is still there. 

Merlin, Draco, let me take it away. Let me touch you, bite you, hit you, anything you want. I'll do anything.

"Well, Potter? Can't think of anything with that peanut brain of yours?" 

My world has stopped. I cannot stop looking at you, I'm sorry Draco, I'm sorry I'm not insulting you but you- you've gone and done it for me now. Your lips are clean, your tongue has come out and you've licked it away. The moment is gone, but all I have in my mind is your tongue. Stop eating me away, I'm begging you, I enjoy it too much. Make it stop. Leave me alone in my own head. Clear off!

"Apparently not." 

You look disappointed in me, I know why. 

You like this, don't you? You like it when we fight and snap and bark at each other like wolves, bearing teeth and talons and dripping spit all over the place. I'm fuelled by will for a mate, and you're fuelled by instinct. It's been like this forever. 

Your friends are laughing at me, your cheeks are spread into a sick smile at my expense. Do I make you happy? You don't seem happy. You seem awful. 

"Yeah, well, at least a peanut's bigger than your atom of a mind, Malfoy!"

Even I know that one was bad, Ron. At least you tried, at least you tried to defend me when I couldn't do it myself. You wouldn't if you knew what was going through my head. You'd grab me by the ear and tell me to stop being stupid, or am I thinking of someone else? You're my best friend, would you really do that? 

At least you know what an atom is. 

Malfoy raises an eyebrow and his friends laugh at you. Poor Ron. Wish I loved you like I do him, Ron. Would that make it easier? Would you tell me you're sorry, but you can't feel that way about me? I'd let you go, we'd still go on our adventures, but you'd keep your distance and I'd try to keep mine. It would be easier that way, and Merlin damn me for wanting him and not you. 

The small crowd around us of those aware of our eternal feud are clearing off to class, and we still just stand there, looking at each other, scowling, waiting. 

We are both waiting for things only the other can give us. It is tragically sad. 

I don't want to give in to you, and at the same time I want to be and give you exactly what you want. A fight, a stress release, a punch, an insult, someone you can get into trouble for. 

"Well? You going to stop staring at me and go to class, or do I have to make you?" 

That was weak, but I did it for you. You want this. You need me to stoop to your level, it's your love and your passion, just as you are mine. I'll let you use me, even if you won't in return. You can take my body and hit it, you can take my mind and scream at it, it's all the same to me. I know you're only doing it because you need it. It's okay, Draco.

I need you too. 

*

You're glaring at me from the back of the class. I can feel your eyes on me, imagining that I'm being hanged or hexed or hurt. Oh, you can hex me all you want. You can trip me over and make me yell and hurt and bleed and I'll always be content with doing it for you. My body is your doll. 

Merlin. It's been too long without your touch, and I never had it in the first place. This need for you, it's grown too much. Too big for it's cage. It wants to get out. It's making me sick in the head, Draco. I would let you kill me on a whim for the part of me that's taking over the whole of me. If you knew what you did to me inside, you'd be more than satisfied without my body to hurt. You might even feel bad. Or maybe I'm just dreaming. 

I dream a lot about you. You're always you, never who I might want you to be. Maybe I like you the way you are. Maybe I could get off to your torture of me, if I tried. The last time I dreamt about you was two nights ago, and you were standing in a muggle café with a gun in your hand and a shaved head for whatever reason, waving your arms at me and shouting, stepping closer to me until you just disappeared and I was all alone, and everything was fine. I just sat at a table after that until I woke up. 

Strange. They're never nightmares or wet dreams, but just you being weird. You are weird, do you know that? Ever think about everyone else, how they smile and laugh and let themselves go. You're uptight and sneery and beautiful. Everyone else is just keeping on, but you seem to have a purpose. You want to live, I can see that. You think you're going to die someday in the years to come. 

I won't let that happen.

Snape's growling me for something or rather, but all I can hear is your snickering in the back of the classroom, all I can see is you in my mind's eye, you content for a while, your snotty little beautiful face in glee because of my trouble. 

I love you I love you I love you. Take me wherever it is that you go and I will follow. Laugh at me and I'll fall for you. Kiss me, bite me, take me. I love you. 

"Ten points from Gryffindor! For zoning out and purposely not paying attention. Disgraceful Mr Potter. On with the lesson!" 

I can feel your grin and the heat of my heart, pumping in bliss in time to my pulsing thoughts, imagination setting you to be how you are, but just for me. I love you. I want you. I need you. 

There is just no way. Simply no time to have you, or rather, no time to lead you to me.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if you were sexually frustrated? I could catch you in a corner, arouse you, proposition you, and you could have me. I am here for you if you ever need me, Draco. Here and more than willing, but I'll never tell you that. I'd show you with my lips and tell you with my tongue if you would ever let me, but I will not speak a word of it until you ask me to. 

Hermione's made me jump by placing a surely too big encyclopaedia in front of me, and I'm almost afraid. What now? Hogs snouts and frozen sneedle-whiskers? What's the point of all this? 

"Oh Merlin," Ron's complaining already, "Not theory." 

"At least you can't be paired with Neville." I say compromisingly, noticing Hermione already hooking into her copy with a passion that could match mine for Malfoy. Merlin, you invade every thought. Get out of my head, weirdo, and into my pants instead. 

"Serpent's tongue? Isn't that super rare?" 

It seems Ron's finding this not as bad it he first thought it might be. It really isn't, too, it's just you're always with me, in my mind, pictures and scenes and thoughts about you. Sometimes I can read, and sometimes I just drown in words. You're pulling me down, and I'll let you. Just for today. 

*

You have blue eyes tonight. I like them this way, in the moon. Were they always blue? I can't tell sometimes. Oh, now they're gone. Where'd your eyes go, Draco? What did you do with them? 

"Imbecile." You say. Why? 

Oh. I see. You've put them in my hands, two blue eyes, one in each. Of course, where else would they be? 

"They're very shiny, Malfoy, they're really glittering in this light. How do you get them to reflect like that?" 

You shrug, and glare some more. I complimented you, and you know exactly what to do. If you ever said something like that to me out of the blue I might faint. 

Oh, now you're a dog. I'm not sure how, but you're a dog. Human body and no eyes and beautiful skin under the moon, and yet somehow you are man's best friend. Everybody hates you. Wish you were my best friend, I'd have an excuse to touch you sometimes. Wish a lot of things.

I admire your hand, the milky smooth skin and the occasional and so very human divot or the oh so faint silver remains of a scratch you got years ago. I grab it and stroke it, and you growl. Got your paw, Draco, what will you do to me now? 

You sniff haughtily and look down on me when I kiss it, shining blue eyes disappeared from the palms of my open hands. Pity. I quite liked those, a souvenir of your face. I could hold them hostage, make a deal with you, make you fuck me for your eyes. Would I do that? Do I have the guts? Do I want you that much? 

Yes, but I wouldn't do that. I'm in Gryffindor for a reason, after all. I might've given them to you for free, show you I care, even just a little. Do you like boys who care? Do you like boys at all? Might be easier if you didn't. Might be easier if you were a girl. Might be easier if you weren't you. 

I never used to like boys, not until you. You're the exception, miraculously. You are the one that defies all sexuality, the one that I want so much it could never matter what genitals you hid under your robes. I would love you like this if you had no gender at all, in fact that might be convenient. 

You're beautiful under the sun, too, it seems. 

It's morning all of a sudden, and my eyes are open, but you're still here. Like a picture engraved into the back of my eyelids, I have to blink a few times to let you go. Don't particularly want to, but it's time to get up, and I don't want to accidentally kiss Ron if I mistook him for you in this morning haze. 

Oh, by the way, hello Ron. Thank you for waking me up, that's kind of you. Now if you'd please stop sitting on my chest that'd be great thanks. 

Taking a deep breath, I sit up and remember you, and get on with life. 

What else is there to do?


End file.
